Aiding in Abandonment
by Spiritus Erroneus
Summary: Dean was always there for Sam, even when he was leaving. Dean: 22, Sam: 17-18.


Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to play with them. I'll put them back unharmed.

Author's note: Sam. Dean. Sam'n'dean. Having gotten into college not too long ago myself, I know the sheer amount of effort it takes on the part of both the student and parent, especially where full ride scholarships, admissions offices, and high schools are concerned. This one wouldn't leave me alone... So Dean is giving Sam a hand. I may continue it, but it may be a one-shot. Let me know what you think - Reviews make my entire day.

* * *

"Hey, give me that pen, mine just died," Dean demanded.

"I need this one," Sam replied, not looking up.

"Do you want me to do this or not, Sam? Hand over the goddamn pen."

Sam gave him an exasperated look, throwing the bic at him. "Dean, you're lazy." He stood, retrieving a pen from his backpack.

Dean read over another eight by eleven sheet of paper, signing on the bottom line. "Tell me why I'm doing this again?" he grumbled at his younger brother.

"Because you're an awesome brother," Sam grinned encouragingly. "Plus, Dad won't do it."

"Probably doesn't want the crap bored out of him," Dean replied, making a face of mild disgust as he examined another sheet. "Sam, what does this mean?"

"You don't have to read them, Dean, I just need the signatures," Sam said.

Dean shot him a look. "I want to know exactly what you're getting yourself into," he insisted. "Help me out here. It's like reading Latin."

Sam leaned over to look at the sheet Dean was working on. "It just wants to know if it's cool if they pay my tuition," he explained.

"Seems like a dumb-ass question," Dean frowned. "Why wouldn't we want them to pay? What kind of moron would say no to free stuff?"

Sam grinned. "Thanks for doing this, Dean," he said sincerely.

His brother grunted. "Yeah, whatever. When Dad gets pissed, keep my name out of it."

"Legally, he can't stop me from doing this," Sam reasoned. "By the time I leave I'll be an adult."

"What are you, a lawyer? Try that with Dad, I dare you." He forged John's name at the bottom of the sheet, a trick he'd mastered a hundred field-trip permission forms ago. "You sure you want to do this, Sam? This isn't gonna end well."

"I just need a break, Dean. From Dad, and from hunting. Plus, college is supposed to be the best time of your life. Didn't you even think about going?"

"Nope," Dean replied mulishly. "This sheet wants to know your major."

"Put undecided," his little brother instructed.

"So how long before this college phase is over and you're back on the road with me and Dad? A year?"

"A year? Dean, it takes four years to get a degree. Besides, I'm not sure that's what I want to do for the rest of my life," Sam said.

"What? Sam, it's the family business. Fighting evil. Saving lives. It's what we do."

"Well, maybe it's not what I do," he shrugged. "Maybe I want a home and a family, like we had before Mom died. Maybe I want to be normal."

"Sammy, you will never be normal. By any standards." He sat in silence for a minute. "You know, I don't get it. High school was hell for you. Why would you want to put yourself through four more years of that?"

"I didn't hate the school part, Dean, I hated the people. I hated being the weird new kid every time we moved. That's the thing about college. I'm just one of thousands of new kids," Sam explained. "I'm just like everyone else."

Dean nodded reluctantly. He understood where Sam was coming from. "But there's still no way in hell I'm letting you leave for four years."

"It's not like I'm going to Mars, Dean. I'll call you, and you can come and see me whenever you want."

"You might be going all college boy on us, but I still have a job to do," Dean pointed out. "And if Dad gets pissed, he's not going to be too happy about you calling me all the time."

"Dean, I need to do this," Sam said pleadingly.

He turned back to the paperwork. "Why'd I raise you so smart?" he asked jokingly. "This never would have happened if I had made you an idiot."

Sam recognized that his older brother was hurt by his decision. "It's not forever, Dean," he told him. "You'll still be my brother."

"How am I going to watch out for you while you're in California? You'll get eaten alive."

"Dean, I can take care of myself. Honest. Stop worrying."

"You're my pain-in-the-ass little brother. If I'm not worrying, something's wrong." He signed the last form, handing the stack to Sam. "There you go. Your release forms."

"Whatever," Sam scoffed, taking the sheets and turning to leave.

"College ingrate!" Dean called after him.

**Four months later**

Dean rolled himself underneath the hood of the Impala, the stereo turned way up in an attempt to drown out the shouts coming from inside the cabin. He cranked at the radiator coils, singing along to tune the fight out. "Dirty deeds and the thunder chief," he wailed inharmoniously, working in time to the thump of the bass drum.

The shouting grew louder, coming closer until Dean couldn't ignore it anymore. This one wasn't a normal fight. "Samuel Winchester, don't you dare walk out that door," Dad bellowed.

Sam appeared in the doorway, a duffel over his shoulder and his backpack on his back. "You can't control me anymore, Dad! I'm leaving, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"If you leave, don't make plans to come back," Dad replied furiously. "You might as well stay gone! I mean it, Sam!"

The world stopped for a minute as they all realized what he'd said. Both their eyes locked on Dean. Then the moment broke. The door slammed behind John and Sam started striding toward the road.

It only took Dean a fraction of a second to decide who he was going to pursue. "Sammy," he called, jogging to catch up. Sam stopped, turning to look down at him. Then Dean realized that he had no idea what to say. He usually said that John didn't mean whatever hurtful comments he'd made, but this time, it seemed like he did. Thankfully, Sam broke the silence.

"I'll take the bus to California," he said, his voice low. Tears glittered in his eyes, and he avoided meeting Dean's gaze. "I'll call you when I'm moved in. Swing by Palo Alto if you're ever in the neighborhood."

Dean nodded. "All right. Take care of yourself, Sammy," he said, pulling him into what he considered a 'man-hug.' "You'll do great. You'll learn stuff, or whatever geeks do for fun."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, returning the hug. "Be careful."

"You got it. See you. Call when you've got time."

"Yeah, you too." Sam nodded, starting to walk away.

"Wait," Dean stopped him, opening the Impala's trunk and pulling out a peculiar crescent-shaped blade. He handed it to the younger man. "Don't be afraid to use it," he ordered.

"I won't," Sam said, slipping it into his duffel. "Bye, Dean."

"Bye, Sammy," he said, making a huge effort to sound less upset than he was. "Go be normal, College Boy."


End file.
